


day. after day.

by ApplyWaterToThatSlowBurn



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clarke goes fishing, F/F, I'll write more if you like it, a new lady is in the mix, clarke and lexa work to unite the world, clarke moves on, howdotagswork?, lexa continues to be a big mopey baby martyr about it, omg there's chapters now, they can't admit it, they're in love, ya'll I love this shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2018-11-03 04:45:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10959927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApplyWaterToThatSlowBurn/pseuds/ApplyWaterToThatSlowBurn
Summary: Super canon-divergent. Clarke and Lexa lead a united uprising against Pike and Azgeda. They unite the clans. The world is at peace.They are desperate to build a new unified Earth, but Lexa rejects Clarke and breaks her heart (to protect her own).Now they just get to angst out while everyone around them feels annoyed.A shit ton of new characters, and lots of fun! Excited to do this and join this community!I have more...just not sure how this whole thing works so comments and feedback appreciated! Also too lazy and a little tipsy to proof, so just go with it...





	1. They Love and Then They Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an effort to get Clarke out of her foul ass mood Monty and friends take her on a fishing trip. But there's some ulterior motives...involving one Heda.

"You expect me to stand in the middle of the river and do nothing for the whole day?" Clarke glared at Bellamy as they rode over a well worn trail, a weekend's worth of gear hitched to the back of their horses. He had insisted on dragging her along with him, Monty, and a lanky Grounder named Galen on a weekend fishing trip. Bellamy and Galen met while Galen, a carpenter by trade, built what Clarke still called the War Room, but now served as the headquarters for the planning of their new world.

"You'll love it Clarke, it's very relaxing! It's called fly fishing. Galen taught us and I couldn't wait to get back out there! Gives you time to collect your thoughts, and at the end you have something to eat to show for it!" Bellamy responded to her foul mood cheerfully, hoping to sweep Clarke along with his enthusiasm. She had been sulking all around Arkopolis barking orders at people for weeks; which just happened to coincide with the Commander leaving with a delegation to the first United Clans summit, insisting Clarke remain behind to get their new city off and running.

Frankly, her attitude hadn't been any better when the Commander was nearby. Clarke worked tirelessly on the plans for the organization of their new coalition government, mapping its longevity and eventual transition to a representative democracy. She barely slept, and never participated in the delegation meetings despite her role as Commander of Skaikru. She sent Oktavia in her stead, and instead she holed up with the group of Azgeda architects lead by a tiny, angular woman Marin who was directing their urban planning for the new city.

Clarke was sulking about something, and Bellamy knew exactly what it was. Or who it was. The question was, how was he going to get Clarke to admit it, and give everyone a much needed break from her attitude. In the months since the Great Peace, when the 13 clans united under the flag of Unity Day and began to build their new capital of Arkopolis, Lexa had busied herself with travelling alongside Kane and the surviving (or new) leadership for the United Clans, directing diplomatic summits, organizing new military heirarchies, and gently shepherding a new, peaceful government for the newly unified people of the ground. Skaikru's rebellion succeeded, Pike and his lackeys were overthrown, and Azgeda dissenters destroyed. The subsequent rebellions from within both the Grounders and the Skaikru had been squashed before they erupted into full blown civil war. Under the relentless leadership of Heda and Wanheda, peace had been forged in a world where blood had always, always had blood. Once the grounders and the skaipeople began to learn from each other they began a cautious but steady march toward unity. The two leaders were relentless. 

When Heda and Wanheda called for mandatory rotating shifts called buddiscrum, where each person in the Polis, Ground and Sky alike, moved through different jobs Bellamy was sure that there would be a coup. But the gamble worked, after some grumbling and resistance, Grounders learned from engineers and mechanics, infantry men tilled fields, everyone worked at sanitation. a humbling experience, and many people who were what they were because of war and tragedy learned other things to be. The whole world started fresh.

The question of what to do with the guns had been the first big debate. Kane wanted to destroy them all, but Indra fought him hard, what if some new evil came upon them? Many wanted them locked away, but Clarke and Lexa said it flew in the face of the democratic society they wanted to build. People should have access to weapons to protect themselves. It was Bellamy who figured it out, surprising himself most of all. First they would institute city-wide weapons training of both guns and grounder weapons. It would be compulsory, but you could entreat to opt out if you had enough of violence. Everyone in the city, from child to the oldest would go through weekly trainings for the rest of their lives. Many of the better marksmen, former soldiers, would lead the trainings. Not just shooting, the anatomy of the gun, the science behind how it worked, the history of weaponry, both grounder and skaikru. And not just guns, the traditions of the grounder clans were varied and often difficult to master, so they would all be trained in that as well. Finally, all the guns and high velocity grounder weapons went into a library. Anyone could check them out without providing a reason, though someone storming to the gun library to check out a sniper would likely draw questions. The people agreed and the gun library was founded. No one had tried to check a gun out yet.

But something had happened, mused Bellamy, something in the time after Unity Day. The world was progressing. It was...beautiful. Jasper (with the help of Galen) had built a Great Hall (and promptly followed it with a distillery).�The Grounders taught the Skaipeople how to play futbal and a league was formed. Resource planning happened night and day as crews surveyed and drew new maps of the land. But despite the successes, the joy that was felt across this new world, Clarke had become sullen and bitter, lashing out at her friends and family, singlemindedly focusing on building their new city, their new world. She was nearly unbearable. And Bellamy was weary of it. It had taken a lot to get their group to where they were today, riding side by side toward a weekend camping trip. Bellamy's choices during Pike's rise were terrible, but Clarke, and the Grounders, had eventually forgiven him. He had finally figured out how to forgive himself. He guessed that his final atonement would be to get the GrumpHeda as she was referred to behind her back, to address what was truly bugging her.

"I don't have time for this bullshit," she muttered.

Monty sighed, "The coalition will survive for 3 days without you, Clarke."

"Commander gets back to Polis in three days," Galen said to no one in particular, looking up at a robin that perched on a tree and whistled sweetly. He was an odd grounder from a lowland clan with a thick braid that ran down his back, but Bellamy found if you listened closely Galen often delivered piercing truths with the air of one who was commenting on the weather. Monty was luckily riding a horse behind Clarke, so she didn't see him smother a laugh.

Clarke pulled tight on the reins and turned to the three men, her expression was furious. It only made them want to laugh harder.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" she spat out.

"Nothing, I was just saying. Look, we're here." Glaen extended his hand.

Clarke's snarl faded briefly as she looked at the sight that unfolded before her. The trees and made way for a valley, where foliage covered the hills wrapped around a thin mountain river as it through, sparkling in the mid morning light before curving out of sight. The river was at a leisurely pace, as it had not rained in several days, but the stones that covered its bed were worn flat and smooth, as though it had known great currents in its time. Galen leapt down from his horse picked one up and skipped it deftly, it danced six times across the water then sunk.

As Bellamy unloaded the gear Clarke stalked around the river bed, finally satisfied (she claimed she was checking that it was secure, to which Monty rolled his eyes at Bellamy over her shoulder) she returned to where the men were huddled in a circle, placing delicate feathered lures carefully on the line.  
"Won't they be destroyed when they hit the water?" She asked, hunched over Galen, unable to feign disinterest at this strange ritual any longer.

"No no Wanheda (don't call me that, she muttered.) "No Clarke, they look very small, weak, but they are made strong, they last." Clarke looked at him sharply.

"Do you make them?"

Galen smiled, "Many of these were made by my parents, it was a hobby of sorts, before the wars. I look forward to making them myself now. It's relaxing. As much as the fishing itself!"

Clarke said nothing but looked hard at the small red fly she held between her fingers.

Galen showed the skaicrew how to bait their lines and cast, they practiced a few times on land, resulting in Bellamy getting his line caught on a low hanging branch. Even Clarke was laughing by the end, her permanent scowl forgotten.

They slipped on leather booties "to grip the stones better" Galen told them, and waded into the water which was refreshingly cold, it rushed past ankles and calves and eventually up to their hips.  
�  
"These fish are travelling back to their breeding grounds from their spawning grounds. They spend their whole lives fighting to live only to die.Most of them die on the journey. They spawn down river and fight their way up to breed, then they try to swim back down, only to die after spawning, which always kills them. They live to love and then they die."

"A little sad, muttered Monty"  
"You feel for the fish?" Galen laughed  
Monty smiled, "Not enough to stop eating them!"

Bellamy glanced at Clarke who was staring out at the river pensively, chewing on her lip.

The four began casting, swinging their lines back and forth as Galen had taught them. A few got some tugs but nothing had stayed. After an hour Galen waded ashore and brought back an ale growler with a big cork, he tied a rope to a rock and the other end to the handle, and grinned as the ale floated next to the four.

"It is bad luck to fish without ale," he said with a mischievous grin.

"Plus, it teaches you to drink slow and be steady, because too much ale and...well, we are in a river."

"A lesson in moderation! You drink too much you fall in the river and drown! We should have brought Jasper." Bellamy said, half joking, half sad. Jasper had never fully recovered from the wars. He ran the bar (or pretended to) where he mostly claimed sobriety and snuck drinks that everyone pretended not to notice. Then when he'd had too much he'd be ushered quietly off to his room without putting up a fight. Jasper tipsy was far more tolerable than Jasper at the prospect of forced lifetime sobriety.

They sipped ale from the bottle and quietly fished, a woodpecker chipped away building a new home in the distance, the river bubbled over rock.

Galen was right, Clarke thought and she swung the line back and forth, this was relaxing. But all that time not thinking only made Clarke think. Think of Lexa. Think of what she said, how when they retreated to Lexa's room after the Unity Festival ended, she felt so electrified. They had United the world. In front of everyone they sliced each other's palms and declared this was the last blood shed between grounders and sky people. She remembered how Lexa's eyes shone as she dove her hands into all that hair, as she pulled that body, that body that was hers, close against her. Laid her down on bed and hung over her. The smile, the endless green. Lexa was hers.  
Then, after, as she glowed and hummed and traced Lexa's tattoo down her spine, she went ahead and humiliated herself. Poured herself out. And Lexa had rejected her. Told her sex and companionship were a wonderful and appropriate celebration, but they had a responsibly now, to the world, and that she did not want to muddle that. She would be gone frequently working with Kane to spread the news of the union. Clarke would lead the government in the polis and prepare an integrated city so the two clans could not fall back into old self segregating ways. They couldn't have whispers of romance clouding this new world. Clarke, who had just bared her soul, told Lexa she loved her, that she was her true happiness, quietly rejected by the woman she gave her heart to. Lexa kindly patted Clarke's cheek and told her the world needed them more than they needed each other, pulled on her pants, and walked away. The next day she was gone to negotiate with the Sea Clans. Clarke was destroyed.

Clarke's next cast into the river was hard and angry. The fly landed with a plop. But before she could pull it back she felt a sharp tug, then resistance. Clarke yelped! "I've got one!"

Galen yelled "Pull back!" And slid his pole into the holsters he had affixed between some rocks so as not to lose it and clomped through the water to Clarke's side.  
" Wanh... Clarke I want you to tug strongly but not too strong three , times then for the forth yank hard and high! The fish will not escape but you must have patience, patience. Right now it is scared, confused, straining against you, using the current, trying to figure out how to detangle from the fly. It is cornered by the suddenness of this realization, that it is caught. It's natural response is to escape. And it will if you aren't patient. It will find the right angle and loose itself and swim away forever. Don't just yank back, if it isn't on the fly yet, it will swim free. Ok, gentle now, one...good...two...and three. PULL!"

Clarke pulled and Monty spewed ale (he had long since given up fishing and was sitting on a rock drinking) as a fish came flying out of the river shimmering through the air. Galen caught it in his arms and hugged it snugly, where if flopped pathetically. Bellamy clapped and cheered, then grinned at Galen, "Quite a lesson, friend." And looked thoughtfully at an ecstatic Clarke.

"I DID IT!" Clarke was laughing with the rest as they clambered to shore to inspect the fish. It was monstrous with a curved mouthy pulled up in an angry scowl and sharp little teeth. Deep red made way to pink which bled into silver scales, shining in the wet and the light.

They unhooked the catch and laid it out, Galen produced a small, thin metal rod with a pointed end and quickly slid it into the fish's head, it stopped flopping instantly. "No one should suffer, not even a fish." He said to the three, then they all tromped back to fish the day away.

As evening came seven massive fish hung from a line and the four made camp. Galen taught them to clean the fish and lead them to some roots and berries, blackberry, ginger and tiny pods with hard black seeds inside which he made into a sweet, spicy compote. Bellamy diligently pressed each herb between pages of a book and wrote down where they were found and the instructions. He had taken on his task as a Head of Libraries with gusto and was never seen without his notebook and pencil.

The fish was delicious and the four dipped into the ale with a little more gusto now that they were on dry land. Galen brought procured a flask of something called Mescalia which he passed around and made all three of the skaicru choke at the smokey potency. Then Bellamy told them some stories he was recording from the grounder oral tradition, one of Ikaruz, an Azgeda priest who tried to reach the gods by building wings made of wax. However as he flew higher, the sun melted the wings and he plummeted back to the ground, because men and women are not supposed to go into the sky. Galen laughed uproariously at the three people before him, all who fell from the sky.

Clarke leaned her head back against a piece of drift wood and stared up. The constellations above were familiar and comfortable. The Shepherd, The Archer, The Maid and the Monster. For the first time ever she felt the contentment of home. But at the back of her heart she felt that ache that she could not heal with relentless work, or even with a fine day with friends. And when she stopped the ache grew until it became unbearable. So she could never stop. But as the fire crackled and the Mescalia burned softly in the belly and the smell of roasting fish and ginger wafted around and Monty sang a quiet song while Galen strummed and beat a guitar he had brought, she decided she would ignore that ache in this moment.

Day, after day, I get angry and I will say  
That the day, is in my sight  
When I take a bow, and say goodnight

The sun rose early, but Galen was already up clearing camp. He had gathered several burlap sacks of herbs to bring back to the granary to distribute to the General Stores and had even caught 11 rabbits in traps he apparently set the evening before as the other three drifted away into sleep. He and Bellamy pulled up a net, a more efficient way to fish for volume rather than leisure, and they strung many more fish. Galen insisted they clean the fish before stringing, a long and arduous task that took them to mid day. Finally they were ready to return. But still, Galen seemed to be stalling, insisting on checking horse heels and then claiming he heard something big and perhaps it was a deer and they should go check. Clarke was dipping back into her foul mood.

"What the fuck are we doing, let's go!" She shouted from her horse while Bellamy and Galen bumbled around in the brush.

"What are we doing, Galen? You didn't hear anything." Bellamy muttered at his friend.

"We are on a very specific route, one that is cut and worn for many horses with many riders. It is also the most direct path between the Western clans and the polis and if anyone was returning from the West they would take this path." Galen looked at Bellamy with a sparkle in his grey eyes and then both looked swiftly up at the sound of trotting feet. His mouth cracking a brief smile.

"Good day delegation and welcome back Heda!" Galen called out from the path as a troop of horses lead by a statuesque woman seated ramrod straight in the saddle rode up.

"Oh you're in trouble" Bellamy chuckled under his breath. "Welcome back Lexa!" He said brightly as he looked up and slapped a hand against Lexa's mount Windwalkr, "hope all was well."

Lexa looked pointedly at him, she had forgiven but never forgotten, and while she was polite and even welcomed his input, she was always cool to him.

"Hello Bellamy, Galen." What brings you to the valley?

"We decided to make a little fishing trip which turned into a camping and gathering trip. Got some good stuff too!" Galen said and thumped the bag on his shoulder.

Kane nudged his horse forward as he sound of hooves made their way up the path, and then a voice followed.

"What the actual fuck are you two idiots do.." Clarke trailed off as she made eye contact with Lexa, who stiffened further in her saddle (as if that was possible). Kane swallowed and surged forward a little, "Ah! Clarke! A fishing trip! Great to see you taking a breather from the planning!" He said a little too brightly. An incomfortable shift in atmosphere had everyone but Clarke and Lexa grinning a bit too hard and talking a bit too loud. It was like being in a room with two big cats, both supposedly tame but looking ready to pounce.  
Monty followed and quickly said, "We learned to fly fish! Clarke's first time! Let's all head back together, nothing beats a homecoming that includes 100 pounds of salmon!!!"

A small vein in Clarke's temple was jumping and her jaw was tight but she just turned her horse and headed back east, leading the line. Monty and Bellamy fell in behind and Galen and Kane behind her, Lexa had fallen back, putting several delegates between her and Kane. Monty was fairly certain she had not blinked yet.

Clarke had surged ahead and was entirely out of sight by the time they reached the outskirts of the city. Kane glanced at Galen, the grounder had a faint smile on his face but Kane looked worried.

"I hardly think that was helpful, Galen."

"We caught many fish and told tales and sang songs, it was quite helpful I think. Everyone needs to rest."

"There's fish everywhere in the river."

"It's the best spot" Galen shrugged.

"The best spot for you to stir shit," Kane shot back. "It didn't help, you saw their faces. Heda was furious and I can't promise Clarke won't try to kill you."

"I can handle GrumpHeda," Galen said with a laugh, "She is learning to fish, learning to wait, learning how to catch and hold."

Kane rolled his eyes, "Sleep with one eye open, friend."

Back at Polis, Clarke dropped her horse at the stables and stalked back to her house. Raven shouted a hello at her from where she lead an electrical engineering course and received a middle finger in response.

"I see fishing was a success" she sighed to Bellamy as he walked up.

"It was. Until we crossed paths with the delegation on their way home."

"Ooh," Raven winced, then slanted her eyes slyly at Bellamy, "What happened, don't leave anything out."

Bellamy sighed, and flopped onto the ground, legs splayed forward. "Nothing, Lexa looked stricken and Clarke looked full Wanheda and I'm just glad she wasn't armed. Kane said the delegation was a huge success and we will be assembling supply lines and doing some road building to connect the outlying clans to some infrastructure. They seemed wary at first, but Lexa convinced them we had no interest in forcing them to move or change, we just wanted them to be connected, and they are sending a delegate to polis too."

He sighed, "I don't know Raven, she's... broken. More than before. It's different. She...it's like something inside her has cracked too deep to fix." He thumbed the table, "It's on Lexa now."

Raven groaned and tossed the mess of wires down, "Great. She's going to be even worse now. As if that's possible."

Lexa walked briskly from the interim government building at the far end of the city to Abby's makeshift clinic. The new hospital was under construction, and from the clinic Abby and several high ranking grounder healers were teaching students (and each other).

"May I speak with you Abby?" Lexa said briskly, as Abby walked by giving praise to a young grounder practicing stitches on a cadaver arm.

"Of course Lexa, Mahmu please take over, I don't think Alisia quite has it:" an aging Azgeda healer sat down and began to show precise stitches deftly, despite rheumy gnarled fingers. Mahmu had taught Abby much since she established the school, the Azgeda had perfected surgical skills without much of the technology Abby was used to.

"I've returned from delegation and the medical situation in many of the outlying clans is untenable. We must send aid, medicine and most importantly training."

"I'd be happy to. I think it's best if it's a mixed group, I don't think the Western clans are quite comfortable with Sky people yet. Patrick and Samone can go and bring a few interns, maybe grab someone from farm and the library to teach and record? And I hate to say it, but make sure those choices are handy with a weapon or two. Marcus told me you ran into some dissent out on the plains."

Lexa nodded in assent thanked Abby and turned to leave. Abby reached her arm out and felt the Commander stiffen in response.

"Lexa, are you ok?" Abby asked before the commander could flee.

"I'm fine"

"I know what happened. Marcus told me. I know you're tired of killing, especially your own people."

"I'm fine," and then quickly, "You are all my people. Those were raiders, they had no allegience, they would have done it without the peace. Their jus was not the jus of our united nations."

Abby sighed, as Lexa's eyes fell on a photograph from long ago. Clarke looked young and happy, with bright cheeks, arm hanging over her mother and father.

"Have you spoken with her..."

"I am fine."

"SHE IS MY DAUGHTER. And she is not." Abby's eyes flared as she turns swiftly and went toe to toe with the Commander.

"And you are a fool." Abby whispered.

Lexas nostrils flared. "This isn't your business doctor"

Abby deflated and wrapped Lexa in a deep hug. "It's my daughter it's my business."

Abby's arms. Seeing Clarke astride her horse looking haggard and wounded. Knowing she was the reason for it...with that, Lexa crumbled.

"I cannot. I cannot. What if we fail. What if it all falls apart. I cannot be distracted. I cannot lose again. I have nothing left in me for her." Lexa gasped out, her chest heaving.

Abby held Lexa closer, her heart aching for this broken woman, "If you turn away from this then what was the point? Then it was all for nothing. What is the use of our new world if you cannot live your happiness in it?"

Lexa shuddered, a sob leaked out, she gripped Abby's shoulders, "I cannot. I cannot." She looked up, green eyes wild and full of tears, "I cannot love her. I cannot lose her. There is no such thing as peace. Blood will always, always have blood. I cannot love her when it could be hers."

Lexa sunk to the ground and Abby held her there for a long time.

Raven had built a track, a big 1600 meter loop around a grassy field where children sky and ground shrieked and kicked a leather ball. She wasn't jogging, it was more of a skip, but it was something. Eventually she'd switch to the wheelchair and work her arms, but she had to get at least a mile on her leg to keep it strong. She heard Clarke before she saw her, breathing heavily, running at least a 5:30 mile pace. She zoomed past, blonde ponytail streaming behind her. Raven knew she wouldn't catch her so she did the next best thing, took off her shoe and threw it. It hit Clarke on the back of the head.

"What the fucking fuck?" Clarke spun around.

"Well I wasn't going to catch you," Raven retorted, arms crossed.

"You could have just said, "Hey," Clarke spat out.

"Yes," Raven said to the sky, eyes in an epic roll, "You certainly would have responded and not fucking ignored me."

Clarke just glared, and so Raven marched forward and in a burst shoved Clarke to the ground on the track. The kids all stopped to watch.

"Whatthefuckravengerrofme," Clarke shouted as the taller girl dropped onto her, straddling her to hold her down.

"ENOUGH CLARKE!"

Clarke stopped moving.

"Enough of this. You're going to kill yourself. All you do is work and glare and yell at people and work some more. You barely eat, you don't sleep. Enough. Fucking talk to her. Or I swear to god jus will have blood or whathefuckever because I will KILL you if I have to deal with this bullshit any longer."

A sky kid started a slowclap and was shushed.

"She loves you. She's just scared." Raven leaned forward, put her hand on Clarke's cheek. "Talk to her, or I swear to god I'll fuck her myself just to piss you off." Clarke sputtered out a laugh and Raven grinned and rolled off her, with a grunt getting back on her feet. Clarke stayed on her back, staring at the thunderheads that were rolling in. She sighed and sat up.

"Rav, she doesn't want me."

"Oh Clarke, don't be a pussy."

With that Raven hobbled away.�


	2. The Other Shoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! And less tipsy on this one! I woke up the next day with Archive of our Own kudos and thought ,"Oh no...what did you do SlowBurn..."
> 
> I think I might be able to do this for a bit, but keep it coming w/ the feedback. Your feedback on the first chapter changed the trajectory of this story,and what happens with Clarke and Lexa in this chapter and more. A commenter reminded me that Clarke shouldn't go chasing after the Commander (isn't that what Galen taught her, after all!)  
> Plus...and Oktavia sighting!

The map room was full of people, Arkadians and new delegates, but there was an air of joy and not the tension that usually existed when this many strongheaded leaders were in a room together. Instead they were joking and laughing as they compared maps and debated distances. On one wall a grid had been drawn up to scale and the delegates were attempting to draw the world together from their different maps (some that existed only in heads.) The world had changed physically after many years, and the old maps no longer applied. Lexa surveyed the room with her arms crossed and turned quickly when she heard raised voices at the corner.

"Impossible!" Octavia shouted (though good naturedly) at a grounder who had drawn a river turning inside one of the squares.

She stabbed her own notebook with her finger. "It turns HERE, there's a massive whirlpool where it eddies, I will SHOW you tomorrow."

"You've been to The Delta, what, six times? I've been riding along that river my whole life. It turns here. You clearly marked a tributary not the main river. It happens, the river branches everywhere here, it can be confusing."

Octavia narrowed her eyes at the suggestion she was wrong or confused.  
"Bet."

The lowland grounder, whose name Lexa hadn't caught, smiled wolfishly, a huge mane of hair ran down his back with a few beads woven in, "Oh you're on, Oktavia Kom Trikru. And I will delight in winning." And the two shook hands.

Lexa looked up at the growing map. The world was getting bigger. It felt too big. Too unmanageable. No Commander had ever tried to govern this much land, even with their new democratic model. Every time it grew she felt a jangle of nerves, that each turn would reveal a new violent end, the next unexpected danger, something wicked would always be lurking to bring them back to reality and out of this saccharine facade of unity that could never last. No part of Lexa believed in a future of peace. She sharpened her swords each night. The day was coming to and end and the delegates all filtered out to head to the celebration dinner being thrown that evening, and she rolled up the last remaining maps and filed them away into their compartments labeled with Bellamy's neat, precise handwriting. The man was a fiend for organization, and anyone who disrupted his "system" would pay dearly in hours that he would spend lecturing them on the importance of good record-keeping for future generations.

"Lexa," a voice that could always say her name in the most certain way. The way that made her weak and warm. It was a voice that had not said her name in so long. Lexa turned rigidly to the door Clarke had just walked through.

"Hello Clarke," she said stiffly, it was the first time they had spoken since she'd returned.

"Lexa, I..." Clarke stepped forward and Lexa took an involuntary step back, which made Clarke halt in her tracks, a deeply sad look washing over her face. Clarke shook it away. 

"I don't want it to be like this anymore, Lexa. It can't be like this. Look at this world!" She swung her hand toward the map that was growing across the wall. "There is too much in this world. I can't hold onto this anymore if I want to be a part of this world. You've trapped us both in the past."

Lexa said nothing, and Clarke sighed, swallowing the anger and hurt that had made a permanent home in the back of her throat.

"You can choose to be unhappy, but that's you're fucking choice. To be wary and frightened forever," at the word frightened Lexa's brows narrowed slightly, "But I can't do it anymore. You hurt me that day, in a way you can never know. You took a piece of me that I'll never get back. But that day, just like all the other days, is in the past. I can't live like this if I want to be a part of this future. I thought I couldn't exist here without you, I thought I didn't want to. But I do want to exist. And I'm not going to live like you, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It already dropped for me." Clarke moved forward swiftly, with the reflexes that made her Wanheda, before the Commander could retreat. She reached out and grabbed Lexa's hand. "I love you, and I will probably always love you, and when I see what you've accomplished I'm proud of you. But I'm done hurting for you. You chose that burden for yourself. I don't have to carry it too." She dropped Lexa's hand and turned to walk out of the room and only a tiny part of her cracked when Lexa did not stop her.

Lexa watched her walk away.


	3. I Drew A Line For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two in a row! Traffic was terrible today and I wrote the whole damn thing on my phone! It's time for a party with all the delegates visiting Arkadia. Monty plays some recognizable tunes. If you can name the artists in the comments, I'll declare you winner and follow through with a small story prompt at your request in later chapters (NO CHEATING AND GOOGLING, Y'ALL!)
> 
> Beware, Clexa stans...there's a new lady in town, and she's got her eyes on a certain Wanheda... (well, there's only one Wanheda...so she has her eyes on that particular Wanheda).

The delegate dinner was sumptuous, even by sky standards. A long table had been constructed and placed on the elevated stage of the U shaped amphitheater. Hundreds of glass jars, set alight inside, had been strung in sweeping curves, so as the sunset it looked like fireflies floating overhead. The new delegates looked cautious, but impressed. Meals came out in waves each more delicious than the last. In his element cooking for hundreds, Maurice, a former soldier turned head of the kitchens and his wife Umyaria, one of the first of Azgeda to join the Unity cause, manned a massive pit grill where eels and meats sizzled over coals and on another tablepiles of whipped creams and spun sugar awaited their chance at the table. Clarke was seated between Kane and the delegate from a far western Sea clan, who lived past a massive mountain range that few had crossed. Her name was Jenya, and Lexa frowned as she looked on from where she sat as the two were hunched forward, deep in discussion. Jenya was breathtaking, cutting a statuesque figure with a mass of black curls, a dress wrapped around one shoulder and swept down to the floor. All of Arkadia had dressed to impress tonight, and Clarke had paired a formal jacket with a shirt of forest green that opened deep at the throat, her hair pulled back behind her with a few loose waves escaping at her face. Lexa stabbed her fork into a carrot viciously and heard nothing that the director of farming from up river was saying to her about crop rotation.

"Yes, our ancestors carved out the road into the side of the mountain, it's relatively easy to cross in the warm months." Jenya dragged a finger across the table to show Clarke the curve of the road around a massive volcano (her wine glass).

"Amazing", Clarke exclaimed. She was regularly impressed at what the clans had accomplished without technology or heavy machinery. She yanked a piece of paper and charcoal and began peppering Jenya with questions about the mountain, it's elevation, wildlife, the topography. Jenya laughed and put her hand over Clarke's as it sketched. She pushed Clarke's wine toward her with her other hand.

"Wanheda..."

"Don't call me that," Clarke said quickly, but it came out as a request, and not a demand, for once.

"Clarke", I have traveled many, many miles to come to your strange city where people who fell from the sky made war and then peace. Where you have machines with motors and the whole world drawn upon a wall. We will spend a long time looking at maps. For now, I'd like to drink wine and talk about simple things. On our way back, Marcus Kane called it "chatting". Let's chat!"

Clarke smiled shyly and sipped the wine offered her. She did not move her other hand. Lexa felt her teeth grind involuntarily. 

Dinner was closing, groups were laughing and milling about. Someone had rolled a cask into the amphitheater and popped a spigot in. Marcus had stood and said a few words, followed by some statements from the new delegates to the crowd, mostly thanking them and praising Arkadia, promising to share their knowledge and to support each other.

"But only if you explain to us how you made this drink," one delegate exclaimed tipsiliy, cheersing Jasper who blushed furiously where he had taken a seat at a drum set.

From beyond table, Monty and his band launched into song

"Oh, a dance!" Jenya laughed as she pulled Clarke up from table to join the flood of people that were moving to the open space below the stage.

Lexa looked past the small group that she was chatting with to watch as Clarke was led by this Sea Goddess (as Lexa had taken to calling her in her head) down to to the crashing wave of dancers. She picked up her wine and gulped it down. Then stood to help the crew clear so she could keep her back to the dance floor.

Jasper (who had stayed miraculously sober that evening) thumped a simple beat on the kick drum and a grounder, Ekka, plunked out a line on a standing bass.  
Dun.  
dun dun dun dun  
Dun Dun.

Dun.  
dun dun dun dun  
Dun. Dun.

Monty stepped up to a microphone Raven had wired to a small amplifier, but he still had Galen's acoustic guitar. They hadn't figured out how to amplify it, but they would. He began to sing:

I'm gonna fight 'em all  
A seven nation army couldn't hold me back  
They're gonna rip it off  
Taking their time right behind my back

The shape of the amphitheater scooped up Monty's voice and the drum and the guitar and tossed it into the crowd, who had formed a sea of moving bodies to the drum and bass. Lexa walked back onto the platform after helping carry the tables away and looked down at the crowd. Marcus stepped next to her.

"Look a this. Our people. Dancing together." Marcus said with a laugh.

The two had become close over the months of travel, and he placed his hand on Lexa's shoulder. Lexa found Marcus trustworthy and thoughtful. His openness and optimism had kept her on the path in the first weeks after she left Clarke heartbroken. He looked at her almost like a daughter (though would never say it.) he and Abby frequently talked about their worry over Lexa and Clarke. He was ashamed to say that he once told Abby he thought it would be best if they stayed apart, for the sake of the unity. Abby told him he was a moron and didn't speak to him for three days. He quickly realized she was right. The two were better together. Lexa had never told him what happened with Clarke, but had made statements about the importance of focus and the danger of distraction. He wasn't a moron, he pieced it together, and he sighed at Lexa's martyr complex keeping her from embracing the future.

"You did this Lexa. You should be so proud."

"No. Not me." Lexa said as Clarke spun Jenya, laughing. She turned and walked away into the night. Marcus rubbed a palm over his face and went to pester Abby for a dance.

"Last one!" Monty shouted to the crowd, who boo'd cheerily. "Sorry everyone, but we just lost our drummer." It turns out Jasper was not quite as sober as they had thought and had fallen asleep at his drum set. Ekka scooped him up and carried him over his shoulder off the stage. "This is a slow one so grab the one you want to hold close" Monty said and began to strum.

Clarke felt a hand on her wrist and she turned to see Jenya. They had danced on and off throughout the night but Clarke had lost her in the crowd.

"Care to dance?" Jenya asked, and Clarke nodded as she reached forward to pull the grounder closer, sliding a hand to her hip.

Monty began to sing.

Look at the stars  
Look how they shine for you.

Clarke wrapped another arm around Jenya. Pulled her closer. Their cheeks touched. She felt a hand move up her back, over her neck, Jenya smiled and tugged at her ponytail playfully. When Clarke's hair came down she felt the hand dive into it. She felt lips curve againts her cheek. She felt a warmth in her stomach. She felt. She remembered feeling. She sighed and they turned slowly in a sea of people dancing as Monty sang out into the night sky.

Your skin  
Oh yeah your skin and bones  
Turn it in to something beautiful  
And you know  
for you I'd bleed myself dry.

The music ended and the crowd cheered. Monty dove from the stage directly into the crowd, where hundreds of hands went up and carried him over the sea of people. Another oak barrel had been procured and it looked as though the party would continue long into the night. Jenya leaned in closer to Clarke and turned her mouth to her ear. "Take me home, Clarke."

Clarke smiled and said, "let's go. They wound through the crowd hand in hand grinning at each other. Bellamy watched from where he filled his cup with Raven, who was positively hammered.  
"Well hell. Would you look at that." he said, scratching his chin and taking a big gulp of ale.  
"Oh shiiiit. That was not my advice." Raven whispered and went to smack Bellamy's arm, missed, lost her balance, and fell over. Bellamy doubled over laughing and helped Raven up. She swung an arm over him companionably.  
"Well...not exactly what I said to her at the track. But at least it's something.Fuck the pain away, Clarke!" she cheersed her empty cup to the sky.  
"Where's Lexa?" Bellamy asked a little worriedly. He glanced toward the weapons library as though he expected to see the Heda in full armor swinging dual swords over her head with murder in her eyes.  
"Left a long time ago." Responded Raven. "Gonna go sulk." Her slur got deeper and more sleep, "Gonna lose her forever if she isn't careful."  
"Fuck the pain away." Raven muttered and flopped against Bellamy, who sighed and lifted her up to haul her back to her hammock in the mechanics building. He tucked her in, as he had done many times to many people, and wandered back to his own home that he built down by the river. He looked out and saw Lexa walking...stumbling...back up from the bank.  
"Hail Heda." He said jokingly.  
"Oh fuck off." Lexa muttered as she staggered past, tripped, and sprawled onto his porch.  
"Good god is every woman in this camp unable to hold her liquor anymore?" He said to no one in particular as he picked up the Commander, who instantly tried to fight him. Luckily she was so incapacitated he easily wrestled her into the chair on his porch and threw a blanket over her.  
"She will be happy." He heard Lexa mumble at him as he poured her a cup of water for the morning and splashed water on his face from a bowl.  
"Eh, what's that?"  
Lexa shifted in the chair, "its better this way. Better for everyone. She'll be happy and safe."

Bellamy sighed, "What about you?"

"Durrn't matter", Lexa slurred, drifting closer to oblivion, "Matter o'time er me. Someone'll ventually kill me for somethin. Bullet or knife. It'llall go bac,k you'll see. Never gonna stay like this. Long as she's not near. Long as she's safe. S'all that matters."

Bellamy sighed, "Lexa no one likes a martyr."

"Not being one. Just being a coward. Just can't lose again. Can't be the reason." She fell asleep and Bellamy retired inside, knowing if he tried to move her while she slept she'd likely wake up,procure a knife from thin air, and slit his throat. The Heda had resigned herself to a lonely future. He'd done the same, but for different reasons. For the first time he felt he had a true kindred spirit. Someone who truly made the worst possible choice. 

Clarke woke up just before dawn, as she always did, but this time in a tangle of legs. She saw an arm that had snaked around her in the night, dark against her pale chest. A breath fluttered the hair at her neck and as she moved the arm tugged her closer and the breath murmured. Clarke rolled over to where Jenya lay and propped herself up on one elbow. The sea woman was half asleep, lashes resting on cheek, but ran her hand lazily down over Clarke's hip. Clarke practically purred and looked at this woman in her bed. She was not like Lexa, she was not like Niylah. She was not like any of the other people Clarke had been with. She was entirely new. Entirely her own. She had no connection to sadness nor fear. She was simply a person who Clarke had met at a party. There had been a spark with a stranger over wine under sparklinglights. This was normal. Clarke reached out to touch tuck her hair behind and ear. Clearly Jenya had woken because the roaming hand had become more persistent and pulled Clarke over and on top of her. Clarke leveled herself up on elbows. "Well hello," she said with a grin. "hello yourself" Jenya smiled and pulled Clarke into a kiss. Clarke dove into this feeling. She dropped kisses along that neck, that chest, that stomach. This was a good way to spend the first day in her new present.


	4. build// rebuild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Jenya must say goodbye, while Lexa begins a new project.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I forgot all about this thing until I recently got a notification in my email. We're back, right where we left off, so you may want a refresher in this non-canon universe I've built. 
> 
> There is mention of Luna...but she's not a night blood living on an oil rig...she's just another Grounder working with the Coalition. We're still in springtime, but summer is around the corner...so while this chapter is rather tame, you can expect that, like summers in Arkopolis...it will likely get hot.

Jenya stayed in the city even after most of the delegation returned to the west, claiming she wanted to learn more from the stables about horse breeding. When she wasn't meeting with Rylard the Stablemaster, who seemed as taken with the Sea Goddess as everyone else in Arkopolis, Jenya was with Clarke; wandering the city, trying food, going on long rides into the countryside. The two were inseparable. Jenya had given up all pretenses of the guest cabins and was staying with Clarke each night. The city buzzed about this new, glowing, FRIENDLY Wanheda, but after three weeks it was time for Jenya to return. She would bring with her multiple copies of maps to drop at some key villages and hamlets along the way, new seeds and almanacs with planting instructions meticulously written out by Bellamy and his crew of librarians, and a few dozen horses to begin breeding with the shabbier, mountain ponies she used in her lands. Several adventurous stablehands, both nursing painful crushes on Jenya, would join her in the west to assist in the breeding program. Clarke called it an "ambassador program" and they quickly set about seeking more adventurous youths to apprentice in other parts of the world. Despite the close of their time together, Clarke was positively jovial with Jenya; she still worked relentlessly, but it was with a new positive spirit that was practically infectious. The whole city seemed brighter as spring drifted lazily towards summer.

Lexa was steely and pensive in the weeks that followed the banquet. After her intoxicated meltdown on Bellamy's porch she retreated to her cabin, but much to his surprise, her mood shifted into something new. It wasn't anger, it wasn't the usual dip into a black mood, she actually seemed to become more grounded. She went to meetings, asked questions, demanded progress, but she began to allow others to take the lead in discussions and plans. Her protege Luna had begun to fill in where Lexa previously would never relinquished control. Lexa was still engaging, still making decisions...but she had begun to do something she had never done before...delegate.

She had also picked up a hobby, well as much of a hobby as someone like Lexa could pick up; she began to build her home in a beautiful clearing overlooking a valley a mile outside the city. She was doing it alone, kindly refusing any help except for the occasional assistance from Bellamy when she needed some extra hands. The two had become closer since her riverside meltdown the night of the banquet. She liked being with him. Bellamy didn’t ask questions, didn’t push. He had committed atrocities and made terrible choices that destroyed many people, but his remorse and redemption were true. Lexa had begun to appreciate that more, that people could make mistakes and could atone for them.That constant vigilance was exhausting, but so was constant sorrow. At first Bellamy was worried Lexa had checked out, but as time went and she began her project he realized it wasn't resignation...but something else that Bellamy couldn't quite put his finger on. Sometimes he would come home to find her sitting on his porch reading one of his books or looking at the plans she had drawn up, making little notes and adjusting calculations. They would sit quietly together for a while until Lexa would wordlessly get up and return to the small cabin she was bunking in in town as she slowly built her house on the hill. Bellamy suspected she didn’t want to be alone but didn’t know who else to be near.

At Clarke's house, it was the morning Jenya was to return to the west, and the two were making the most of their last hours together. The sun had yet to rise, and a thick fog had rolled in over night, enveloping the city perched on the verge of summer in a cold wet hug. In Clarke’s bed, the two women caught their breath, blankets cast off, a sheen of sweat layering skin. Jenya lay on her back, threading her hands into Clarke’s hair where the blonde lay resting on Jenya’s stomach. Clarke pressed a kiss above her belly button and crawled up, nestling her head in the crook of her shoulder and wrapping her arms around Jenya.

“I wish you weren’t leaving” she murmured, and pulled the sea woman closer, kissing the salt of sweat off her shoulder.

“You’ll have to come visit sometime.” Jenya said lazily, "Though there are some things about my clan that I think you might take some getting used to”

Clarke propped herself up on an elbow, and looked insulted “Like what? You know I've been around a time or two and have seen quite a bit of the world, I came from the sky for fucks sake!"

Jenya grinned, “well I suspect you’ll have a problem with my wife, though I think she’d love you.”

“YOUR WIFE!?” Clarke yelled and sat all the way up, blankets pooling off her, which only made Jenya laugh and lean in to try and nip at the exposed skin while Clarke scooted away.

Jenya chuckled, “Yes, my wife! We don’t have the strict monogamous relationships you all seem to resign yourselves to. I thought you knew that about many Grounder clans? Dez and I take many lovers, sometimes together, sometimes apart. She is my truest love, but a body is not meant to be kept, it should be free to wander, even if the heart has found a home. It is what my people believe.”

Clarke just stared at her and sputtered, half angry and half bemused at the explanation. She had encountered plenty of Grounder polyamory, though she was a bit put off by not knowing that Jenya was married.

“Why didn’t you tell me!?”

“Well, as I'm sure a worldly sky person such as yourself knows," Jenya teased, "We aren’t the only grounder clan who does this, I want to say I assumed you realized that this was fairly common in the West...but I think I would be lying to myself if a part of me thought you would deny us if you knew. I’m sorry for that part.”

Clarke chewed on her lip, incapable of stopping her eyes from roaming across Jenya's exposed body, trying to hang on to any bit of outrage still lingering. She was struggling. She wasn't a yokel or a prude, Clarke knew that many Grounder traditions were very different than what Skaipeople were used to, but that did not make them wrong or bad. She was just surprised. “So your wife wouldn’t be mad at you for this?” Clarke asked, she found the idea of being the other woman wildly unpleasant.

“No, my wife would not be upset. I wanted you from the first moment I saw you Clarke, greeting us in the map room with your bright eyes and your wild hair, like cornsilk. Dez would have recognized that desire, and would have encouraged me to pursue you. Perhaps would have joined me in pursuing you. In taking you.” At that Jenya waggled her eyebrows and Clarke’s last bit of startled anger melted away, “Regardless, she is who I return to, and when I do she will welcome me with open arms and open heart, and I will touch home. It is our way.”

“Grounders are so confusing,” Clarke sighed as she flopped onto her back.

“People are confusing Clarke,” Jenya said as she swung her leg over Clarke’s hips to straddle her, making the blonde squirm at the contact. Jenya leaned forward and gave Clarke another nip, “It matters not if you’re from the earth or the sky, the mountains or the sea.”

“Besides, I know your whole heart belongs to another. To just one.”

Clarke's head jolted up and she drew her brows together, “I don’t want to talk to you about that. Especially not when you’re straddling me.”

“Yes of course, I’m sorry Clarke.” Jenya acknowledged she had touched a territory they had been dancing around for weeks. Lexa. But she pushed forward on this last day together, because she knew Clarke was wounded deeply, and without release the wound would continue to fester. Jenya hoped their time together was healing more than confusing.

“We have a word for what this is in my language that I do not know in yours," said Jenya. "It’s called “pecois du wader” or “the wave that smooths”... it is what you say when you open your heart and body again after it has healed from terrible loss. It is like a wave...but a wave that washes things away, not in destruction, but in rebirth."

"Yeah we have a word for that too, it’s called rebound.” Clarke snorted, and shifted her hips lightly to feel that contact again. Her skin hummed, and the warmth grew low on her belly as Jenya purred. She felt like she was floating in two; she craved the touch and contact and even just conversation with the woman hovering above her, but Jenya had sent her mind drifting back to Lexa. Could she ever truly be with another? Give all of her, her whole self? Find a new home? It felt like no matter what she did there was a thread, or a chain, and it was inexorably linked to Lexa. Had she really moved on?

“Rebound?” Jenya practiced, testing the word.

Clarke had to laugh, rubbed her hands up Jenya's thighs and looked up at her hungrily. Gods, who cares if she has a million Grounder wives, she’s gorgeous and has healed another little piece of me these past weeks.

“I don’t get it? Re-bound? To bound once more? Is it because your spirit soars again to know the touch of another?”

“Errr...i think it’s from basketball,” Clarke said, laughing and rearing up to capture a kiss.

Jenya reached out and held Clarke’s face in her hands as the two sat up, body to body. "Clarke what we had between us, it is real and true, but you will continue to....rebound...for a long time. She reached between them and placed her hand on Clarke’s chest, “the crack in your heart is too deep”

With an intake of breath, Clarke pushed Jenya back on the bed, relief washed over her face as she said, perhaps as a reminder to herself, “Loving her does not change how i feel about you, or this”, Clarke whispered and deepened the kiss, “And I will miss you.”

"And I you," Jenya responded, she then reached out and took Clarke's had and slid it down her body. "Now say good bye to me properly."

A mile away, high above the mist drawn valley, the long shadows of beams from Lexa’s home began stretch with the rising sun that had burned through the fog. The Commander stood in front of the wood frame, legs splayed like a warrior staring down the battlefield. Instead of a sword she wielded a hammer. Instead of destruction she began to build.

Or...perhaps...rebuild.


End file.
